<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Griffin Rock Writing Prompts by OptimusPhillip</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880953">Griffin Rock Writing Prompts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimusPhillip/pseuds/OptimusPhillip'>OptimusPhillip</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, oneshots, writing prompts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2019-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:49:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimusPhillip/pseuds/OptimusPhillip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots based on writing prompts from the Griffin Rock Transformers Discord server.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elita One/Optimus Prime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. After Tyger Pax</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: First Impressions! write about anything from cybertronians meeting humans, your favorite pairing meeting for the first time, or whatever else you can think of that fits the prompt.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>What... what happened? Where am I? I must’ve passed out, but... when? How? I can’t seem to remember any accidents. In fact, it feels like my entire memory core is scrambled. Oh no, something’s wrong and I don’t know what to do. Where do I go? Who do I see? My servos are jittering, my vision is blurring, and what’s this loud whine in my audio receptors?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Wait... I hear a voice. “Hang in there, scout.” it says, “Everything will be alright.” It’s weird, I don’t recognize this voice, but... it’s strangely calming. I guess it’s just good to know I’m not alone.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Now, just try to piece everything together. Start from the beginning... that’s right. Iacon courier unit. Designation: B-127. My job is to deliver messages. Wait, how could I have blacked out when delivering messages? Impact on the road? Solar storm?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>No, don’t rush yourself, Bee. Is there anything else you’re forgetting? Wasn’t there a war? Yeah... a war. Something about an uprising in Kaon... that gladiator, Megatron. Gathered himself a band of revolutionaries, called themselves Decepticons. Does that have something to do with... whatever this is? Was I... involved in this war?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“We got another one wounded, Red!” the voice shouts, “Fragging ‘cons will scrap anything that moves.”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Yeah, that’s right. Optimus Prime... he was raising an army against the Decepticons. I tried to enlist... didn’t even make it through basic training. What was it they called me? That’s right, bumbling Bee. Definitely wasn’t going into active combat anytime soon. But then why do I keep seeing flashes of spilled energon, and hearing the sound of laser fire? If I never made it through boot camp, how did I end up on a battlefield?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Wait a minute... armies need couriers, too, don’t they? Yeah, it’s coming back to me. Optimus said that he needed someone to deliver his orders, when he couldn’t do it in person. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity to help out... yeah, that’s how I made it to the battlefield. I had a message to deliver.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>The message! I jerk up off of my back and try to scream, but... nothing comes out. Everything I say is garbled. Dear Primus, what happened to me?! I comb through my memory bank, every last gigabyte... but there’s no cohesive data. I start babbling again, but this time I’m not even trying to say anything.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Then I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Easy there, kid.” the voice says again. I lower myself back down onto the... am I on a stretcher? Yeah, it’s a stretcher.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Wait... there’s a little more to the memory. A face... Megatron’s face. But when could I have fought Megatron? Even if I could’ve, why would he have bothered with me? Did I know something he didn’t... or did he just not want me to deliver my message?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>What was that message, anyway? Something about all sparks? Yeah, something like “get all sparks off the planet.” But what does it mean? Oh no, my vision’s blurring again. I think I’m blacking out! I can’t see! Someone help! I’m about to pass out!</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Wait... I’m awake. And I feel... different now. Like... better. It’s weird, I never realized how much pain I was in until it was over. But where am I? And what’s this bright light in front of my face?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Good, you’re awake.” the voice says to me, “Looks like you’re feeling better.” I sit up and try to respond, but it still comes out as a series of garbled bleeps. What’s happened to my voice? Why hasn’t someone fixed it yet? They... are... going to fix it, right? Of course they are, there’s got to be something they can do... isn’t there?</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I’m sorry, Bee,” he says, “but I’m afraid your speech synthesizer was... damaged beyond repair. We’re currently looking into a transplant, but there’s not many to go around.” I look off to one side, and let out a whine. I feel a hand touch mine, and I look back to the source of the voice.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>I realize now that I never got a good look at him before. His body is painted white all over, with some red highlights to indicate that he’s a medic, with some power-pulse lines on his shoulders for good measure. He has a black forehead crest, but one side appears to be broken off.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I know, it’s tough, Bee.” he says, “I can’t imagine how awful it must be to lose something like that. But just... try to understand. The fact that you’re even online right now is a miracle unto itself.” He’s definitely right about that. I suppose I should just be happy for that... even if I’ll never be able to speak again...</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“You have every right to be upset,” he says, “but trust me, it’ll get better. And I’ll do everything I can to help you.” the medic let go of my hand and stood up, “For now, you should get some rest. And if you ever need anything, just call for Ratchet. Okay, friend?” he walks out of the room, and I lie back down on the metal berth.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Ratchet, huh? That’s the bot who saved my life... Ratchet... my friend...</span></p><p>
  </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
        <span><br/>
</span>
      </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For my response to this prompt, I went with Bumblebee first meeting Ratchet after the Battle of Tyger Pax. I had a really fun time writing this, getting into Bumblebee's head and trying to figure out how he would first react to losing his voice. Special thanks goes out to my friend, T., who gave me some helpful advice on the subject.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Saying Goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Saying Goodbye</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This time, the prompt was Saying Goodbye, and so I went the (admittedly obvious) route of telling a story about the day the Autobots left Cybertron, and used that as an opportunity to take a deeper look into Optimus's emotional core. Unlike my last story, where I pulled from various sources, this story draws most of its inspiration from the G1 cartoon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>Optimus Prime stood in the shadow of the Ark, his gaze fixed on the wide nose of the giant golden spaceship, which loomed tall on its launch pad, just under the Iacon dome. On either side of him, Autobots were shuffling back and forth, loading energon cubes into the ship’s fuel tank. Wheeljack walked up beside him.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Ship should be good to go in about ten cycles, Prime.” the white and green mechanic said.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Excellent, Wheeljack.” Optimus said before turning up to look through the large glass hemisphere, “Somewhere out there, I know there’s more energy for us. The universe is too vast for that to not be true. The only question is, do we have enough left to find it?”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“We better hope so. That’s all the fuel we can spare.” Optimus brought himself back down to ground level. He turned to look past the ship, and saw two figures standing in the doorway.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Continue to oversee the preparations.” the red robot said, “I have... business to attend to.”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Of course, chief.” Wheeljack walked over to the Ark, while Optimus wandered past it, towards the doorway. Just across the threshold stood Magnus, a white robot with an identical chassis to Optimus, and Elita, a slightly smaller pink robot with a more slender frame.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” Magnus said, “Good luck on your search, brother.”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Please, Orion.” Elita said, “Let us come with you.”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I’m afraid that’s not an option, Elita.” Optimus said, “You both have your own responsibilities here, on Cybertron. Besides, if something were to happen to either of you on this voyage...”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I understand.” she said, “Just... promise me that you’ll be back.”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I’m afraid there are some things that even I can’t guarantee.” Optimus admitted, “But I swear to you, and to Primus himself, that I will do everything in my power to return.” Optimus grabbed hold of Elita’s hand and held it close to him. Elita clamped her optics shut, and Prime lowered his gaze. Magnus placed his hand on Elita’s wrist, and the two unclasped hands.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Magnus, I’m leaving control of Iacon in your hands.”</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I won’t let you down, Optimus.” Optimus and Magnus shook hands, and Optimus looked over at the ship, then back at Magnus and Elita.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“I suppose there’s nothing left to do at this point besides to head off.” Optimus said.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Goodbye, Optimus.” Magnus said.</span></p><p>
  <span></span>
</p><p>    <span>“Goodbye, Orion.” Elita said. Optimus turned and walked towards the ship. Elita wriggled her fingers slightly, and felt something odd in her hand. She raised her arm up and opened her hand. Inside was a small pendant, rusted around the edges, and slightly charred on the back. None of this, however, obscured the engraving on the front: “To my Ariel, the one whose spark outshines the suns. From Orion Pax.”</span></p><p>
  </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
        <span><br/>
</span>
      </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Blue Streak in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Afraid of the Dark</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    "He-hello?" Bluestreak said, stumbling through the shadows, "Anybody else here? Prowl? Smokey?" The silver robot felt around the walls, but caught his oversized foot on a stray cable. He crashed face-first into the ground.<br/>
    "Wow, it's... very dark in here." he said, "Well, no problem. I'll just put on the trusty headlamps so that I can see around and won't have anymore unfortunate acci-" Bluestreak tried to turn on the headlights on his chest, but nothing happened. He felt his chest, and heard the sound of clinking glass.<br/>
    "Must've busted them in the fall. I mean, it shouldn't be a huge deal. At least I'm still in the Ark, can't be too dangerous. What's the worst that could be in the dark? Jazz with his speakers? Sunstreaker in that dumb alien mask? Yeah, this is just some dumb prank, bit of friendly revenge for all those times I blew my cover by chatting too loudly. Any minute now, they're all gonna jump out at me then turn on the lights. Everything's gonna be al-" Bluestreak stopped in his tracks when he heard the sound of a splash, followed by a flash of blue light and a feeling of wetness on his foot. He got down on his knees and felt around on the ground. He found the wet spot and tapped it with his hand, causing it to glow a faint blue.<br/>
    "Energon?" he said, tapping the puddle again, harder this time. The fluid flashed brighter this time, revealing the thing that sat beside it: a lifeless mechanical chassis, with vertical stripes on the chest and a pair of glass earpieces.<br/>
    "Jackie? Buddy, what happened?" Bluestreak said as he grabbed onto the figure's arms, but Wheeljack didn't respond.<br/>
    "Come on, Wheeljack, answer me! Oh, Primus, don't tell me the 'Cons did this to ya. It's Praxus all over again!" Bluestreak opened his mouth to keep talking, but he silenced himself when he heard a slight echo.<br/>
    "Who... who's there?" The echo grew louder and clearer, starting to sound like a high speed drill.<br/>
    "Oh no... this is way worse than Praxus..." Bluestreak slowly backed away from the echo, but he slipped in another puddle of energon and collapsed onto the ground. The metallic clang echoed throughout the entire room, and the drilling suddenly stopped. The silver robot scrambled to his feet and ran in the opposite direction as fast as he could as the whirring grew significantly louder. A quick glance into his wing mirror confirmed his greatest fear: scraplets. A whole swarm of scraplets, flying straight towards him.<br/>
    "They're gaining on me, this isn't good. This is really, really, really, really bad." Bluestreak transformed into car mode, his tires screaming bloody murder as he drove down the corridor as fast as he could, but with no light to guide him he crashed into walls on more than one occasion.<br/>
    "Go, go, go, go, go!" he said, just barely managing to outdrive the scraplets, "I gotta stop them, and there's only one way to do it." Bluestreak turned a corner into an equally dark room, where he transformed back into robot mode and slammed the door shut.<br/>
    "I hope this is the mechanical room. If this isn't the mechanical room, I'm totally fragged." Bluestreak looked around and saw a glowing cylindrical object next to him. He reached for the object and pressed the button on the handle. The room was bathed in a dim blue light, allowing him to see the mess of cables and piping surrounding him.<br/>
    "Good, it's the mechanical room." Bluestreak sighed as he walked towards a wall of cables, "Now I just need to figure out how to bring the power back. Then I can activate the fire suppression system, and then I'll-" A bunch of scraplets suddenly burst through the wall beside him and began to swarm around his face.<br/>
    "AHH! GET THEM OFF ME!" Bluestreak fired off several shots from his shoulder blasters, scaring the scraplets out of his face, but not actually hurting them. Thinking quickly, Bluestreak grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and blasted the mechanical insects with the subzero gas, causing them to clatter to the ground.<br/>
    "Okay, that was close. Now, let's get this ship back online." Bluestreak approached the wall of cables, clutching the fire extinguisher tightly. A wise choice, considering that there were multiple scraplets chewing on the cables. He gave them a quick spray, knocking some of them out before they even noticed him, but he didn't get all of them at once, and some of them responded by gnawing on his hand. He frantically shook his arm, but the scraplet jaws held tight onto his steel flesh and copper nerves. Those that were shaken off took a different approach, and started munching on the metal of the extinguisher itself. The freezing gas was released all at once, freezing some of the scraplets, but leaving Bluestreak unarmed.<br/>
    "Oh no, I gotta be quick about this, or we're all goners." Bluestreak set the light down on the table, illuminating the tool set scattered around. He flipped off the main power switch and looked back down at the table.<br/>
    "You can do this, Streak." he said as he picked up one end of the main power cable, "It's just a simple splice job." He picked up the other end and brought the two together, twisting the frayed wire together. He picked up a soldering iron and a spool of solder, and melted the solder into the wire, reconnecting the broken wires a little bit at a time. As he worked, he saw a drop of energon fall onto the table. He looked at his hand and winced at the sight of the scraplets gnawing at his inner workings, but there was nothing he could do but work.<br/>
    "Please, Primus, if you're really there, please let me at least live long enough to save my friends." he prayed before returning to the job. He continued to apply the solder successfully, but before long his grip loosened, causing him to slip. Bluestreak tightened his facial servos, steeling his nerves in spite of the pain in his arm, and continued to work until the wire was finally fused together. Finally at a point where he could set down the soldering iron, he picked up a wide roll of electrical tape, and wrapped a strip around the exposed metal cable, insulating it.<br/>
    "Please let that be it." Bluestreak said, reaching for the switch. His arm, however, went limp: the scraplets had eaten through his internal arm mechanism. He reached out with his other arm, but started to lose his sense of balance.<br/>
    "They're... they're really going deep, aren't they?" Bluestreak said, "Just... a little... more..." Bluestreak reached out, loosely curling his fingers around the switch, and collapsed, bringing the switch down with him. The lights came back on, as did a screen on the wall. A long block of text code scrolled over the screen, followed by a graphic of the Autobot insignia.<br/>
    "Teletraan... activate... fire... suppression..." Bluestreak started, but he passed out before he could finish. Regardless of his incomplete statement, the computer responded.<br/>
    "Fire suppression system activated." the voice said, and every room in the ship was filled with supercooled carbon dioxide gas. With this, every last scraplet was frozen, incapacitated.<br/>
    "Assessing damages..." the computer voice continued, "All units offline. Initiating emergency protocol." A small projector-like device emerged from behind a panel in the wall, and fired a beam of energy at Bluestreak. Bluestreak's optics flickered back on, and rolled to face the computer screen.<br/>
    "Is... everyone alright?" he said.<br/>
    "All units currently offline. Repairs currently in progress. Overall prognosis: positive."<br/>
    "Thank you."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When writing this story I asked myself "Which Transformer would be afraid of the dark?", and my mind instantly jumped to Bluestreak due to his backstory. So I just took that idea and ran with it, leading to what we have here. I'm not used to writing horror, but I gave my best shot here, and I hope it came out well.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Energon Scavenging</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Demolishor is a lonely energon scavenger just trying to survive in the midst of the war when he is presented with an opportunity that will change his life.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: produce a drabble about Energon scavenging</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The twin moons shone gold and silver over the ruined Cybertron skyline. A lone tan figure dug through a large pile of rubble, a large storage crate sitting beside him. Stone by stone he sifted through, but he found nothing but more rubble.<br/>     “By Primus,” he said, “you’d think that the wreckage of an energon storage facility would have, you know, energon in it.” He continued to dig until finally, a pink glow shone through the cracks onto his brick-red face. The robot reached down through the cracks and pulled out a hunk of glowing pink crystal: energon.<br/>     “There we go.” The tan robot opened up the crate and put the energon inside. He looked down into the crate and saw that it was barely half-full of the glowing pink crystals. The scavenger shook his head and replaced the crate’s lid.<br/>     “At this rate, I won’t even last a deca-cycle!”<br/>     “How unfortunate.” a gravelly voice said. The scavenger turned to see a large silver and robot approaching him. His helmet was bucket-shaped, and he had a large black cannon on his arm. On his chest, he wore a purple badge, resembling a face with a tall head crest and a pointed mouthplate.<br/>     “You’re... you’re Megatron!”<br/>     “So, you’ve heard of me.” Megatron said, “And what might your name be?”<br/>     “Uh, Demolishor.”<br/>     “Well, Demolishor, it seems you’re in a very rough spot.”<br/>     “That’s putting it lightly.” Demolishor said as he took a seat on the pile of rubble, “Ever since this war broke out, I’ve been struggling to find enough energon just to scrape by.”<br/>     “That is terrible, Demolishor.” Megatron said, “And unfortunately, you are not the only case I have encountered.”<br/>     “I’m not?”<br/>     “Not at all. It’s truly a pity. Not only does Optimus Prime continue to foolishly fight for the old ways, but in doing so he makes life more difficult for folks like you, who are left scrounging for the slightest bit of energon in this war-torn landscape. Tell me, don’t you want something more?”<br/>     “Well... yeah. Why, what are you offering?”<br/>     “The same thing I offer to all my comrades. A better Cybertron, free from our Autobot overlords. No longer will we toil at our expense for the benefit of the wealthy. All will do their part for our society, and all will have their needs met in return. There will be no more war, no more starvation.”<br/>     “No more war, huh?” Demolishor said, “Then what do you call this?”<br/>     “Unfortunately, the Autobots don’t see things the same way I do.” Megatron said, “To them, my vision is a threat to their way of life. They have no interest in our needs, only in their own pleasure. As a result, they tried to suppress me and made any form of peaceful change impossible. Therefore, in order to bring my idea to fruition, we must first overthrow the Autobots by force, then take control of the planet ourselves to ensure a proper transition of power from the ruling class to the working class. It will be difficult, it will be painful, and it may seem counter-intuitive, but it is necessary to build the Cybertron we need. Does that not sound worth it, Demolishor?”<br/>     “It’s... a tempting prospect.” Demolishor said, “But do you really think it will work?”<br/>     “It is the only way. Taking any other approach will do nothing but help the Autobots win. So, Demolishor, will you join me, or will you let the Autobots continue their oppressive reign?”<br/>     “I... I...” Demolishor stood up, “I will join you.”<br/>     “Good. You will make a fine Decepticon warrior, Demolishor. Now come with me to your new home.” Megatron transformed into his tank mode, and Demolishor transformed into his own treaded vehicle mode. The two drove off together towards a large mushroom-shaped building in the distance.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>